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To the newest members of the ship he was little more than a shadow. Something they caught on the fringes of their vision, a body that appeared in their peripherals before vanishing when they turned to look. In the beginning they would brush it off, assume the radiation was making them see things perhaps, or the stories they heard upon boarding the ship were making their imagination run wild. He appeared infrequently enough that they assumed they were seeing things. Tall, broad, and dark was the best they could describe. Always, it didn't take long to notice, always appearing not long after Captain Ava had been by. Sometimes they would pass her, and a moment later a shadow passed as well. It was just odd that when they looked he was gone, regardless of how far they'd been from the corner.
.
As they settled in more, he became more frequent to see. He seemed to solidify in a way. He was no longer just tall and broad and dark, but he had shoulder length wavy hair that fell over his face like a curtain. Sometimes it looked wet. Darker. Clinging to his face. He wore clothes that were only partially defined, dark and ragged. The only clear aspect of him was the pendant around his wrist, small and circular and made of precious glass. They were never able to catch what was inside of it; something small and thin, more fragile than the glass that encased it. He still was only seen around the captain, her set of heavy, intimidating footsteps almost always followed by a pair that was softer, a longer, loping stride that kept faithful time with her. He was no longer quite a phantom, not so much an imaginary friend, as someone who existed, maybe. As they grew used to the ship, to the crew, to the captain and her shadow, they began to speak. To ask questions. Who was that? What was he?
That's the captain's shadow, they were told, he's hers.
That was it.
.
And the longer they were there, the better they got at their jobs, the more he was seen. The more he lingered, not just around Captain Ava but the ship as a whole. In the engine room, watching over Jack's shoulder. Standing a few feet away from David while he navigated a new course, always keeping an odd, dark shape within some sort of sight. He didn't speak, though sometimes they would believe someone who seemed familiar with him to be speaking to him.
You're scaring the newbies, someone would tease, can't you introduce yourself properly?
He never did. It was odd, because the more they did their jobs the more he watched, and the more visible he became. His dark hair curled up at the edges, he wore a bandana around his forehead, there was a scar across the bridge of his nose but sometimes only on his cheek. His eyes were dark, mostly, but sometimes the left one would turn yellow. He was human in shape but sometimes his skin appeared rough, ragged, warped. It looked like his clothes should catch on it, yet they never did. Sometimes he had both arms, and other times he only had the right. It was frightening at first, but as they grew used to the ship so too they grew used to him. It was just him. Just their captain's shadow.
.
It became known to them in whispers that if one was in trouble, you should call for Simon. Who was Simon? No one could say, or maybe they wouldn't. But it was known by everyone. When you needed help, large or little, you called for Simon.
.
As the prospect of the reason for their recruitment - a research dive into the blood ocean in a new submarine - grew closer, they began actually hearing the captain's shadow. Talking to other members of the ship, talking to himself, talking to Ava. His voice was quiet and deep, like the rolling of the blood ocean the ship perched upon. He never raised his voice though expletives fell from his lips like raindrops. He was friendly and cordial, though there always seemed to be an air of sadness around him. It came to their attention that very few people ever touched him. Jack and David and Captain Ava, and… that was almost it. Occasionally another member would clap him on the shoulder, bump their arms together, throw an arm around his neck, but there was always an air of unease. A sense that they weren't supposed to do that. Even so, the man looked happier when they did. His face would lighten, his smile would broaden, and the tension always held in his shoulders would fall away, just for a moment. And then the touch was gone and so was his joy.
They soon discovered why touch was so uncommon- because there was something genuinely disconcerting about it. Touching his clothes always gave the impression that they were holding something wet, soaked. Touching his skin, shaking his hand or passing something to him, gave them vertigo, made people feel light-headed. Speaking to him for too long made them feel like someone else was whispering in their ears. It was unsettling. Uncanny. The new ones, they always tried though. The man was awkward, though they couldn't say that once he was used to them he wasn't welcoming. Always a step behind their captain, and always with a smile for them as if he was genuinely excited to see them.
.
He grew louder as the time to explore came, angrier. He kept to Captain Ava, avoided the touch of others, but their arguments weren't quiet.
Do you think I want to do this?! To send someone else down?!
Then don't! They don't have to know.
They will always know! Do you think I wouldn't go if I had the chance?
You can't! You know that-
I do, which is why someone else has to. We're doing better. You know this. Please, we have to. This is greater than us.
And their heads would fall together. Captain Ava never cried, but when they argued a new tension made itself apparent in her shoulders. In the stress wrinkles on her face. Her voice would become soft in a way that seemed impossible, even when they yelled at each other. Oftentimes Jack and David would be nearby, and David would spout off some bullshit about the last person in the submersible - if that dumbfuck in SM-13 could do it without reading any of the binders, someone fully prepared can do it. - and Jack would make a comment about radiation and tumors. The shadowed man would get quiet and pensive, and Captain Ava would turn away, but when she would walk away to make her rounds, to get to her next assignment, no matter how bad the argument had been, he was there.
Always there.
.
She was obviously distressed to be sending them into the blood ocean. Submersible 14, affectionately nicknamed Plucky-Go or PG, was larger than previous submersibles. She had a primitive toilet, a protected camera, an upgraded computer module, rations tucked away for longer than their trip duration, an improved radio, and a double shielded glass- one interior, one exterior. She also had odd spikes all across her exterior hull.
Is this for decor? They'd asked.
You never know what's down there. The specter had answered, looking haunted and sad. He must have lost someone precious to a previous mission.
.
Captain Ava briefed them before their first mission, her tone cold and official during her speech while she stared at the submersible sitting open, before she turned to them and looked at the name tags on their chests. Her eyes softened, and she sighed.
You know what to do if something goes wrong, yes? She'd asked. Thinking it a joke, one of them had responded with a cheeky, call for Simon! Captain Ava's face had done an odd twitch at that but she hadn't scolded them for not answering properly.
You call us if you can, and if you can't, you hit the emergency button… and if something goes catastrophic, if nothing else is working, if something gets you… yes, call for Simon. Captain Ava had replied. Her shadow had been missing that day, and they were closer to the dark, snarled shape reaching up to the sky than ever before.
They had wondered, that night, what she'd meant by that. What could get them?
.
Going into the blood ocean was beyond unnerving. Plucky-Go had obviously been made for exactly this purpose, but to be sealed in through two doors, shut tight with no way out underwater, was a claustrophobia they had never expected. At least there were three of them and a deck of cards. They took turns steering, taking pictures, navigating based off an odd map- partially hand-drawn in one corner, with a very boldly written do not go here! labeled right before what looked like a circle. Captain Ava called every fifteen minutes as the mission started, and then every half hour, and hour, and two, four, six, longer, as the mission carried on. Someone was always in contact, though the soft voice they expected to hear, the one that had been uncertain about their mission, never piped up.
The first mission went fine. They were down in the blood for two days before coming back up. Jokingly, as they exited, they said, thank you, PG. Thank you, Simon.
The second and third missions also went well, staying down longer and longer each time. They always exited the SM-14 with a thank you, PG, thank you, Simon. Words that were said as though they knew who Simon was. As though he'd been there, helping them the whole time.
It was four days into the fourth mission and one oxygen bar down that things went awry. Intermittently the proximity sensors would go off. It had been unnerving at first, but they figured that it was simply bits of ground moving in the gaseous buildup and rolling of the ocean. That was, until the voice.
.
Wouldn't you like to know the truth?
It came across as unassuming as a thought at first, said quietly enough that they did not realize it had been said out loud. None of them considered how many times it happened; they did want to know the truth. It was why they were on this moon, researching. Then a voice had crackled over the radio.
Hello? Is anyone there?
An unknown voice. Soft, feminine. They had all looked up in confusion- as far as they knew, no one else was supposed to be down here. The last dive had been done with PG weeks ago, there were no other ships doing such missions on the moon, and before PG had started going down it had been some unfortunate soul who had sacrificed themself to get them important data on the blood ocean.
Hello? Can you hear me? Is anyone there? Please, help us. They left us down here.
Who are you? They asked. Who left you?
The COI did. We were sent down to research the ocean and they left us. Our oxygen is almost gone, our CO2 scrubber broken. Please help us.
Maybe in a different life they'd have fallen for it. Maybe they would've heard the voice and believed it. In another life they may have been just another convict sent down on a suicide mission. But they weren't.
They looked at the unblinking light of the radio, the one that had lit up every time Captain Ava had spoken to them. They looked at the sub's interior, free of leaking blood. They looked at each other, each face as doubtful as the last.
We will have to ask our superiors. We can't act alone. Can you hold on a bit longer?
No! The voice echoed in despair, though it seemed to encircle the submersible as well. Please, we have been down here for so long! They abandoned us, please help us! The sub shook, the motion detector lights blinking slowly and then furiously as something approached at speed.
Don't you want to know the truth that they're hiding from you?! Please, if you help us, we can show you the truth! We can show you part of what caused the Quiet Rapture! It's why we were left down here!
They hadn't been prepped for anything living being in the blood ocean, and when something massive collided with Plucky-Go they were unprepared, screaming as the sub rocked wildly, throwing the trio around like ragdolls. The group grabbed onto each other as the proximity alert began to scream and suddenly
the rocking stopped.
PG went dark.
The sub was still for a moment before shaking violently, throwing them around into the walls and each other, heads knocking against bone and iron before they finally fell unconscious.
.
Did it get you? The unknown voice came over the loudspeaker some time later, soft like it was trying not to be heard, and yet emotional as if in pain. None of them responded, looking up at the speaker and hoping to see the light turn on as someone called for them. The only voice they heard was that strange one, asking if it had gotten them, if they wanted to know the truth, if they would help the other crew be rescued. They didn't respond to any questioning- they didn't know who or what was talking to them, trying to lure them who knew where. All they had to do was wait for the captain to get back in contact with them. All they had to do was wait.
.
All they had to do was wait.
.
All they had to do
Was
Wait.
.
She's not coming. was the whisper. The fear. Rations were nearly gone, there had been no communication beyond the strange murmurs that didn't light up the radio, and the oxygen had gone down once more. More than twice they’d tried to hit the emergency button that had been installed; what it was supposed to do they didn’t know, but no amount of pressure would turn the thing on or cause it to engage. Their week-long expedition had lasted longer than that, perhaps verging on double, and yet.
They hadn’t been found.
They had been warned about the shifting gasses below the blood ocean that could knock them off course, but this… this seemed different. Intentional. They had tried moving the sub, had tried reaching out on the comms, tried sending pings. Every time they maneuvered PG something seemed to drag them back, the proximity sensors beeping rapidly until they were re-settled. They had sent ping after ping only to hear the whispers getting louder, saying they left us, they'll leave you too, they abandoned us, the same will happen to you in between other senseless phrases.
Huddled together, the three of them looked at the speaker, and at the remaining rations.
If one of us dies, then…
No! We're not sacrificing ourselves! We'll get out!
But that thing keeps talking!
The captain will find us!
They argued until the oxygen light began to blink, and then it solidified once more. They quieted down.
We're running out of food. Of air. We need to do something. We need help.
Help.
Help.
It was a joke, an attempt to lighten the mood, when one of them said, Simon, help us, please. We want to go back to the ship.
Surely it was useless.
They didn’t know who Simon was, or why he would help them, but they whispered the words all the same.
Please, Simon. Please, help. We’re scared, we’re lost, the emergency recall isn’t working. Please, help us. Help us get back. Help us get home.
.
The weird thing was…
it got darker.
.
They must have fallen asleep at some point, perhaps from the failing oxygen, because when they woke up there was absolutely no light in PG. Nothing from the emergency generator, nothing from the camera’s button, nothing from the oxygen.
The entire interior of PG was as dark as the captain’s shadow.
Did we die?
Why was the oxygen light off?
Why was the emergency generator not working?
Were they still alive?
The light on the speaker sparked up, faintly illuminating slim tendrils delicately wrapped throughout PG's interior.
Can you guys hear me?
Never before had the shadow’s voice been so welcome to hear.
.
The weird thing was, the sub was being raised. The voices that had been begging them for help had disappeared, PG was practically dead in the water, but she was moving. Their oxygen lights were off, it was as dark as anything had ever been, but none of them felt afraid. Perhaps the sense of calmness was due to the amount of stress they’d been under, leaving them exhausted. Perhaps it was because of the voice of the shadow coming over the speaker, easing their fears and talking them down.
No, I know the oxygen light is off in the SM-14. In PG. It’s fine, you won’t run out of oxygen.
Use a flat piece of metal to unscrew the hatch to the right of the computer module. There’s an extra set of emergency rations in there.
I know you want to get home. You will. I promise, you’ll get back to the ship.
Eventually, PG stopped moving. It was strange- even within the sub they could hear the way the blood sloughed off her exterior. They could feel the way she docked upon something. And yet, there was no communication from Captain Ava. No communication from anyone from the ship…
except the shadow.
Alright guys… Ava isn’t here yet, but if you want to get some fresh air out of Plucky-Go, you can come out.
What?
What?
It had sounded like they’d docked, but- how? There were no other ships anywhere close to them on this moon. They opened the pair of windows slowly, staring in surprise as natural light flooded the inside of PG.
They were above the ocean.
They scrambled for the hatch doors, throwing them open like freed prisoners. They turned their faces towards the sun, leaning on the hatch and taking in gulps of fresh air. Air they had been certain, afraid, that they would never taste again. It took them several moments to look around, to realize they weren’t alone. To recognize what their dock was.
They had come to the dark, gnarled shape. It had a strange, firm texture, coarse and rough when they rubbed their bare skin against it. It was mostly dark, almost black, and yet the very edges of the limbs that reached out in every direction, including towards the sky, held tiny, green shapes at the end. The skin of the thing had patterns that didn’t seem to make any sense. One of the things limbs had curled, providing a safe harbor for the Plucky-Go. Despite being an inanimate object, PG seemed to be relaxing into the hold. Bits of tissue, dripping with blood and mucus, clung to those ‘decorative’ spikes, they realized with horror.
The odd thing.
The strange thing was.
Well. It was just.
The shadow was there.
He looked different here. He looked more… whole. More alive. His skin was dark but flushed and healthy, his eyes bright with no shadows underneath, both of them a warm brown, he leaned with ease against the gnarled tower they rested on. He had both arms now, the pair of them crossed, and he was staring out across the deep red ocean with contentment. There were no scars across his visage besides a slight hitch to his nose. A small, circular, clear object dangled from his left wrist.
What- who- where-
There were so many questions, and not enough answers. The shadow smiled warmly at them, as if they'd simply come for a visit and not been rescued from suffocating to death.
Ava is on her way. I let her know where you were. She’ll be here by the end of the day.
The trio stared at him, not a one sharing an expression.
How is what they ended up on. How did he get here? How did he hear them? How did he communicate when he didn’t have a radio? How were they rescued?
He turned his head up to the sky and scratched his cheek.
You guys called for help. He paused, his voice turning somber. You wanted to go home.
There was so much more that wasn’t being said, but the atmosphere told them not to push it. The shadow seemed happy, confident, and like he didn’t want to share.
They didn’t ask.
Thank you, they said instead.
.
He was right.
Despite not having a radio anywhere on the thing - a tree, he told them, perhaps the last living one - the familiar behemoth of a ship plowed through the water towards them. She moved fast, pushing through the viscous ocean with ease. The sun had barely set when she finally slowed and then stopped, the docking mechanism for PG being spun over the makeshift dock of the tree. A rope ladder was thrown over the side of the ship towards a branch that must have been floating in the ocean, floating to meet it, and there was Ava, climbing down as quickly as her limbs would move. She hurried over to them- the captain of their ship moving as quickly towards her crew as her ship had moved towards the tree.
You’re alright? She asked. We lost contact with you. We kept trying to find you but-
The eel had them. The shadow said, his face twisting. Color drained from the captain’s already pale face, her hands balling into fists. She turned to look at PG, gaze lingering on the flesh that had been claimed from her attacker. Her mouth pulled tight and their captain, their aloof and stoic captain, pulled them all into a tight hug. None of them mentioned how her hands trembled upon their backs.
Get on board the ship and go to medical. You’ve been underfed and in dwindling oxygen for... for days; get your health checked, get a meal in you, and get some rest. She said as she pulled away.
Yes, captain! They replied smartly and headed up. While waiting for the ladder to be clear for climbing, they turned to look at where they had ended up. The captain had walked further upon the tree, over to the shadow. She was facing away from them but the tension in her shoulders had eased in his proximity, the expression on his face soft and slightly sorrowful. As they watched she leaned into him, resting her head upon his shoulder, and he placed broad arms around her back and pulled her in. His mouth moved, words being said that they couldn’t hear, but the captain nodded in return. When she pulled away the shadow offered her a small, gentle smile.
One by one it was their turn to return to the ship, pulled away from their gawking by necessity. It was after they were all up, Jack having been on standby to help haul them up the last few feet, that they finally caught the shadow’s name. Halfway into the ship’s interior they turned, startled, blinking, at the words he had called, at whom he waved at.
Thank you, Simon!
The shadow waved back.
The trio exchanged glances, but said nothing.
He hadn’t wanted to say, and they wouldn’t ask. Quietly, though, they all repeated Jack’s words.
Thank you, Simon.